


Secure, Contain, Run Faster than the Next Guy

by dontrollthedice



Category: SCP - Containment Breach, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Containment Breach, Fridge Horror, Friendship, Gen, Humor, NO DEATH, basically all my scp x mcyt headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontrollthedice/pseuds/dontrollthedice
Summary: Code Red: a large-scale aggressor has escaped containment and currently poses a substantial threat to the site and Foundation secrecy. To survive, the Foundation employees at Site MCYT must cooperate and protect each other from the horrors that breach containment.It's just too bad nobody at this facility is remotely close reliable during a containment breach.
Relationships: Everyone & Everyone
Comments: 22
Kudos: 76





	Secure, Contain, Run Faster than the Next Guy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Captured Creatures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515924) by [ramenwriter (WritingEngine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingEngine/pseuds/ramenwriter). 



> this is a weird amalgamation of scp secret lab and containment breach and lolfoundation. have been working on this since august but i put inspired by ramenwriter's fic bc their au gave me really similar vibes to the scpverse and gave me the energy and inspiration to finish this. go check them out!
> 
> all scps mentioned will get a link in the end notes. tread carefully if youre sensitive to anything typical in the scpverse and remember that nothing here is real.

“You really shouldn’t name them dogs, you know.”

Callahan rolled his eyes in that way he always did when Bad said something hypocritical. Bad didn’t like that particular eye roll.

SCP-939, the creature with many voices. There were quite a few of them in separate containment chambers in front of them, a couple rousing from the tranquilizers they had been put under from the previous experiment several hours ago. They walked on four legs, and aside from that, Bad couldn’t find any similarity between those SCP-939 instances and dogs. After all, Lucy’s skin probably wasn’t a translucent red, and she most likely wasn’t the size of a small car.

Bad scoffed. “Okay, I know _I_ call them dogs, but that’s only because you do.”

Callahan raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look.”

Callahan continued giving him that look, and Bad reconsidered why he, as an ethics committee liaison, decided to spend time catching up on what a level four researcher was up to. Callahan was a trustworthy researcher; out of everyone at the facility, he wouldn’t be the one breaking any codes of ethics anytime soon.

That being said, the sudden blue light being activated on the security camera above them.

Bad squinted at the light. "Did we get new cameras in heavy containment? I don't remember the site director talking about it."

Callahan pursed his lips and shook his head. 

Huh. If anyone was to know about changes to heavy containment, it would be Callahan.

Bad turned back to the containment chambers, only to see the doors sliding open as if they had been opened by a keyboard.

His heart dropped.

Oh, goodness. Oh, gosh, this was the worst possible thing to happen today.

Keycard, they both had keycards. They wouldn't be useful here, would they they? The SCP-939 instances were already walking towards the opened door, and the distance was too great for either of them to lock the door before they reached biting range.

Bad whipped his head towards Callahan, only to see him holding a finger to his lips.

Silence. That was the only way to protect themselves.

But what do they do now?

* * *

God, walking down the gas catwalks was always such a bitch.

Skeppy shut his eyes and held his breath as the decontamination gas wafted over every inch of his body. The gas always smelled so gross, even after decades since its first use for the Foundation. He would've thought they'd find a way to make the process a little more bearable, but he supposed not.

The gas cleared from the air. Skeppy unlocked the door in front of him with a keycard and shut it behind him.

What was the point of this anyway? All anyone had ever told him was _"Oh, Skeppy, you're good at talking, right? Go in a chamber with 049 and hope it works out."_ His job description was obscuring the truth from the human population, not making up a couple lies armed with only a pistol for a creature that could theoretically kill him in less than a minute.

Skeppy stretched his limbs before he moved to press the button to call the elevator. Then—

Skeppy’s hands flew up to cover his ears as alarms screeched and flashes of red passed on the cameras.

“Site is experience multiple Keter and Euclid level containment breaches,” came a voice from the radio clipped to his belt. “Per-site lockdown initiated.”

What the fuck?

Skeppy froze, his heart pounding so loudly he could hear it over the repeated radio alert.

The lights were flashing red. Code red: a large-scale aggressor has escaped containment and currently poses a substantial threat to the site and Foundation secrecy. Fuck, how many of those did they contain at this facility? Too many for a site-in-progress. The containment specialists had just been in the middle of working out proper containment procedures when Skeppy had last checked in with them yesterday.

Ding!

Skeppy trained his eyes on the now-orange button.

The elevator was coming up. Skeppy hadn’t pressed the button. Something else was coming up.

He was trained for high-pressure situations. He worked in them every day.

So Skeppy steadied his hands, took a deep breath, and took off running in the opposite direction.

* * *

While everyone at the Foundation had thrown away their sense of self-preservation the moment they signed that employment contract, Tapl liked to think he was the best at avoiding death in the MCYT facility. He was a containment specialist, after all. He had spent the better part of a decade making sure an SCP couldn't escape and wreak havoc.

Well, there went the better part of the decade.

Tapl frowned as he passed an empty office and scattered chairs, important belongings left behind in the rush to evacuate. Aside from being a major security risk, all the paperwork would pose a fire hazard in the case one of the more destructive SCPs breached containment. 

And breach containment the more destructive SCPs did. The lights were still flashing red. Code red. The only time he had experienced a code red was during the containment breach he had decided he no longer wanted to be an MTF officer.

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. His former training as an MTF officer only went so far when all he was equipped with was some dingy pistol.

But he had training. And all the other containment specialists had already gone home.

Ugh. He hated how much he cared.

Tapl sighed and turned around back to where he knew the elevators down to heavy containment were.

* * *

A6d was not having a good day.

To be fair, neither was the rest of the building. He had never personally experienced a code red, and everyone in the meeting room when the new scientists were being introduced to the code system had refuse to speak up about their experiences with them. He had the feeling he’d be one of those people in the meeting room soon.

He rubbed his eyes before focusing his gaze on the now underactive generator in front of him.

Huh. Generators weren’t supposed to act like that. The amount of energy running through this generator was well under the amount he had restricted it to. SCP-079 may have been connected to it, but that didn’t mean it had any control over how much power the generators—

Oh, for fuck’s sake. 

A6d cranked the generator’s power as far up as it could go and rushed out of the electrical room.

He’d deal with the generators later. For now, he had a computer to interrogate.

* * *

“Alpha-2 Antarctic Empire, come in?”

Techno shrugged at Phil’s raised eyebrow and lifted the radio to his mouth. “We’re here.”

The two had just flown back in from a mission across the country, not even out of their uniform and gear yet. The site director usually gave them at least a day before sending them on another.

“Code red at Site MCYT, priority A,” the site director said. “Multiple Euclid and Keter level breaches, including 682.”

SCP-682? _And_ more escaped Euclids and Keters alongside that? Techno had lost his sense of self-preservation from the job long ago, but Phil still had a wife to go back home to. This was biting off more than they could chew.

“We’re calling in Tau-3 to recontain all SCPs still left inside the facility. Your job will be recontaining SCP-682. Take as much collateral as you need.”

Oh, just a wrestle with that oversized lizard? Now, that was more manageable.

“Got it,” Techno said as they stood up from their seats. “Approaching in five.”

“Alright. Signing off.”

The radio signal crackled, and Techno yawned. “You ready to wrestle a lizard?”

Phil yawned with him but readied his gun. “Ready to sleep more than anything.”

“Mood.”

* * *

A phone call beginning with a rushed, breathless “Tau-3 Dream Team” was never a good sign, especially from the site director.

“Hey,” Dream said back cautiously as he tapped on the speaker button. George and Sapnap gave him curious glances from their sides of the couch, but all he could do was shrug.

Today, they had been allowed to leave the site early to take a break after a particularly grueling mission. Nothing could have gone too terribly wrong in the two-hour time frame, right? Being an MTF team entailed cleaning up the Foundation’s mistakes sometimes, yes, but the MCYT facility had smart, safe people working there. Nothing too bad—

“Code red containment breach, priority A,” their site director said. “Almost every SCP is loose, including 682 and 096. Alpha-2 is already on 682. Your priority is to capture 173. Get over here now.” And with that, they ended the call.

Dream’s heart dropped. When he glanced up to see the uncertain faces of his teammates around him, he knew they were all thinking the same thing: somebody fucked up, and they fucked up _hard._

George was the first to speak after that. “So… everyone heard that, right?”

“Code red, let’s go!” Dream cheered halfheartedly.

Nobody cheered with him.

**Author's Note:**

> [SCP-939](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-939)
> 
> [SCP-049](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-049)
> 
> [SCP-079](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-079)
> 
> [SCP-682](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-682)
> 
> [SCP-096](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-096)
> 
> [SCP-173](http://www.scpwiki.com/scp-173)


End file.
